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الثلاثاء، 12 مارس 2024

وهج glow

  

اختلط في وهج ذكراي                                               Mixed in the glow of my memory

 خريف العمر وربيعه                                                                    Autumn and spring of life

ورحت صوب  احلام عمري                                           I went towards my life's dreams

 في المشتى ادور دفاها                                          In the winter I turn on her warmth

ليه يا احلام الطفوله ؟                                                  Why,O childhood dreams?

ليه يانياتي الرفيعه ؟                                        Why,O  my good intentions?

ليه خطواتي اسبقتني ؟                                 Why did my steps precede me?

 راح عمري وما لقاها            My life went away and I never found her

  


Forgotten messages

 

You are a very beautiful poem

Then I am on this site or other always lonely

I run away from my chest tightness and from my uncomfortable days

Flee to the book, to the pen, to the scattering of words

There is no family relationship here at all, every spring flower is the daughter of March

I address everything, in a metaphorical language that is sometimes incomprehensible to many, but it does not matter, I will not satisfy all tastes

The prudent of the sign understands, analyzes between the lines and does not question

All I have is this pen, it is also a friend like you

Then it's too late, my fair lady. The years have lulled our resolve, and we have no way of making amends to time. The head is gray, the bones are bent and brittle, and nothing is alive but our sorrows. Our pain is many, and our suffering increases every day.

Things are not as you imagine, my fair lady, and my thoughts about my writing are all about things that hurt us

This bitter truth, your words make me feel guilty. As for the writings I have published here and there, they are phrases for all stages. Sometimes we love someone because of his book or poem, and he may have said it thousands of years ago, and I will send you a poem someone said 4,000 years ago. The inscription is written and the poem is the voice of a girl addressing a young man

(((Search for me until you find me))

I'm in the wilderness and finished uprooting thistles,

Now I will plant a vine.

The fire was burning inside me. I was doused with water.

Love me as you love your little lambs

And you take care of me as you take care of your flock

And look for me until you find me)))


As for departure, we are only in a convoy that is moving us forward, and I am walking with it. I do not know when I will reach the station. As long as everyone is on this journey, we will stay together. 


always

I hope you are always near

always

ياالغايب O absent present,

 يا مشغل الروح ! وين الصبح من ليلي

ابطى العتيم وغاب الفجر مع نوره

يامنك انت,  انت كلي وقناديلي

ولا انا اصبحت بعدك في جسد صوره 

يالغايب الحاضر تاخذني من تعاليلي

كنه بين الناس ولكن غايب حضوره


O occupant of the soul! Where is the morning from my night?

The dark one slowed down And he missed  Dawn with its light

Oh you, you are all of me and my lamp 

As for me, I became after you  body picture

O absent present, you take me from my evenings

I was among the people  But his presence was absent



ارسلت لك ( عبيد ) I sent you my tears

ارسلت لك دمعي ياراحل مع الموت    I sent you my tears, O departed with death

شيعت لك روحي وقالت العين عجل              My soul mourned for you and the eye said, “Hurry.”  

قم ودنا ولم البكى بوسط تابوت        Arise, take us, and gather the weeping in the middle of a coffin

وقل للي سبقنا يم ربه تمهل                    And tell the one who preceded us to his Lord to slow down







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